


Going Off-Script

by Charonte_Queen



Series: All the World's a Stage [1]
Category: Choices - Fandom, Choices: HSS Class Act, High School Story (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 09:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16971822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charonte_Queen/pseuds/Charonte_Queen
Summary: Opening night is in only a few days, and there's only one scene left that's having issues. Dylan and Ajay talk about it.





	Going Off-Script

The theatre was filled with the chatter of students as cast and crew filtered out of the theatre. Dress rehearsal had gone smoothly as Ajay was able to start narrowing in on the smaller details. Lines were being delivered well and without hesitation, their costumes looked amazing, and the set was all but finished save for a few last-minute changes and adjustments. There was only one scene still giving them issues…

“Dylan, I don’t understand,” Ajay griped, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose and pushing his glasses up. His eyes were screwed shut, tight with frustration. “You weren’t having any trouble with this scene until this past week, what _happened_?”

Dylan bit his lip. He knew _exactly_ what happened.

_Rory_ happened.

It’s not necessarily that Dylan doesn’t _like_ Rory. He does, really. Just…not the way she liked him, apparently. Dylan had tried to let her down easy, but he just kept stammering through his words uh-ing and um-ing as he put his foot in his mouth farther than he had ever put it before. Rory had smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she reassured him that they were still friends and that nothing had to change.

But things did change. Ever since Rory had told him last Saturday that she liked him, the big romantic climax in the play turned into one big, awkward mess. Dylan wasn’t sure if they’d be able to fix it in the next few days before opening night.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was quiet as he apologized, arms coming to cross over his chest and his shoulders hunched. He tried to make himself seem as small as possible. He hated disappointing people, and he especially didn’t like disappointing Ajay. “I-I’ll do better, it’ll be better, I swear! I can—I can run through the scene tonight, yeah, I can…do that.”

Dylan sighed, his voice sounding tired and sad and so _small_ even to his own ears.

Ajay finally opened his eyes, his hand falling to his side. He studied the freshman in front of him carefully. His brows furrowed, lips tugged down.

“Dylan, look at me,” Ajay said sternly. When Dylan still refused to meet his eyes, he sighed as his voice softened and he tagged on a gentle, “Please.”

Dylan’s face was still turned down and away, but his eyes shifted to meet the director’s. Large, sad brown eyes stared up through thick lashes in such a way that made Ajay want to tug the younger boy into the tightest embrace until the world could not hurt him and he was smiling again.

“Are you okay?” He asked. Dylan bit his bottom lip again. “You know you can tell me if there’s something wrong, right?”

The younger boy looked conflicted, seeming to debate with himself over what to say as his cheeks reddened. His ears were concerningly red, so bright a hue that Ajay was sure he’d only ever seen it before as a Crayola crayon. It burned in stark contrast with the blonde curls of his hair, so delicately tucked behind his ears.

Ajay was about to speak again when two full minutes had passed, and it seemed as though Dylan just wasn’t going to say anything at all until:

“Rory asked me on a date.”

Ajay’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up.

“What?”

Dylan swallowed, shifting weight from foot to foot, chewing on the inside of his cheek now with lips pursed. He looked away from Ajay again and sighed.

“Rory, she…last Saturday, Rory asked me to meet her where we usually hang out and she told me she liked me and asked me if I’d like to go on a date with her, but I don’t like her that way so, you know, told her no and now it’s just so…” Dylan’s shoulders slumped, hands coming up to cover his face as his head dropped to meet them. “…awkward.”

Ajay blinked once. Twice. One more for good measure as he processed the new information.

_Rory…_ liked _Dylan?_ Ajay thought. _My Dylan? Well, not_ my _Dylan, but…the same Dylan Hart?_

An unpleasant feeling coiled in his stomach. He did not like this, not one bit. Ajay wasn’t an advocate for romantic involvement between fellow actors but if there were ever to be an exception to the rule, it would likely be Dylan Hart. Dylan was so convincing on stage that Ajay had begun to believe that maybe he truly did have feelings for his co-star. And the boy’s smile gave Ajay the same feeling of sunshine against his skin, pleasant and warm, that he doubts he could have been too upset if the boy had agreed to a date with Rory.

Ajay swallowed as another, colder, sharper, pain emerged at the thought of Dylan and Rory being a…well, _DylanandRory_. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his heart had stopped beating and was slowly withering away into dust.

“Oh,” was all that managed to escape from his lips as he tried to corral the strange emotion raging within his chest. “Uh, and why did you not—? I mean, why do you not—”

If possible, the redness grew another shade darker.

“I mean, Rory’s nice and all but,” Dylan’s eyes flicked up to meet his before quickly dashing away again, “I maybe already kinda…like…someone.”

“Oh.”

“And now…” Dylan groaned, hands falling away from his face and once again meeting Ajay’s gaze. “I don’t know what to do anymore! All the other scenes have been _fine_ but this one just—just feels _too_ real. It’s like we’re just Rory and Dylan instead of the knight and the prince and I just—just— _can’t_!”

Frustrated tears had begun to well up in Dylan’s eyes, blurring his vision as he desperately wiped them away. Without thinking about it, Ajay reached out and swiped away one that had managed to slip past.

“S-Sorry,” Ajay stuttered and shook his head, snatching his hand back to his side. “We can adjust the scene if we need to, Dylan. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable doing, even on stage.”

“But the show opens—”

“In a few days. There’s time. We can adjust the lines, change some of the blocking,” Ajay told him. “We’ll make sure it’s just the Prince and his Knight up there, not Dylan and his _friend_ Rory.”

One corner of Dylan’s mouth twitched upwards, the first semblance of a smile since practice had ended. Ajay grabbed a pen and his script that rested on the edge of the stage and flipped through until he reached the scene.

“And the first thing to go,” he hummed, “is the kiss.”

The pen scratched out the stage directions with a vengeance. Ajay smiled as he showed Dylan and offered him the pen.

“Can you mark the lines that are making you the most uncomfortable?”

Dylan was finally, _finally_ , smiling that sweet smile that warmed Ajay’s skin, making goosebumbs trail up and down his arms. Their fingers brushed briefly as Dylan took the proffered pen and started to underline some of the lines, marking them all with a little frowny face that made Ajay roll his eyes. When he finished and had handed back the script and pen, Ajay promised to have an adjusted scene for tomorrow’s rehearsal. Dylan had only smiled and went to grab his backpack from where it sat in one of the theatre’s seats.

Once his backpack was thrown over a shoulder, he looked back at Ajay, who was chewing on the end of the pen as he studied the script with an intense determination. He made his way back to where Ajay stood, oblivious, and wrapped his arms around the director from behind, his cheek smooshed against a shoulder blade.

“Thank you,” Dylan said, voice as quiet and soft as it had been at the beginning of their conversation but much less sad. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”

Ajay was blushing when Dylan pulled back and started to head towards the exit. He threw a hand up and waved goodbye to the stunned director, his brightest smile yet stretched across his face.

The pen fell from his grasp that had slowly loosened since the sudden embrace, the click of the pen hitting the floor snapping Ajay out of his stupor. He shook his head and shoved the script into his own backpack, scooping the pen up off the floor as he scrambled to catch Dylan before he got too far.

Luckily, the other boy had only just entered the school parking lot when Ajay managed to catch up to him. He took a deep breath and recomposed himself, straightening up and adjusting his glasses.

Ajay cleared his throat, “Would you like a ride home?”

“I’d like that,” Dylan said shyly, the redness returning to his ears with newfound fervor.

“Wonderful,” Ajay smiled. “Shall we?”


End file.
